Tattoo
by miss.licorice
Summary: Her body in itself was a work of art. SuzakuxKallen ONESHOT. Rated T for adult themes.


A/N: I decided to do a SuzakuxKallen oneshot since I believe that there is a lack of fanfics of the two. This is loosely based on the story "How Do You Think It Feels?" by Neil Gaiman. I got parts of the story and dialogues from that and changed the details along the way.

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass. I also do not own the other things that are typed in Italics.

Tattoo

I lie in bed, adjusting my eyes to the dim morning light that filters into the room through the half-opened blinds. All I see is white— white washed walls, blank white papers strewn about and white fragments bursting behind the seams of my semi-opened eyelids. I turn my head and there, right beside me, is an empty space of ruffled sheets that has taken the shape of a woman. The only thing that she has left behind as a reminder of last night was the lone cherry blossom that currently lies on the pillow just beside mine. As my senses take in her distinct smell that still lingers in the sheets, ten years worth of memories paints itself in my head, as if I'm watching a silent movie of the times when I had dared to break free.

Kallen was nineteen then, a college dropout making her way through life. I was by far the older of the two of us. I was twenty-five, working as a photographer for an Osaka-based arts and lifestyle publication, making just enough cash to sustain my wife and daughter and pay the monthly rent.

We met at an exhibit overseas, in Britannia to be precise, where all kinds of arts were showcased, ranging from classic art to modern ones that were relatively inspired by the style of someone such as Picasso. Sculptures were situated everywhere, conceptual and fashion photographs were hung on the brightly lit walls, skulls and molded pieces were strewn about, but what really caught my attention was the colorful group of men and women, parading their naked bodies that were subtly obscured with the amount of tattoos on their skin.

"Would you mind if I take photographs?" I asked one of the female models with a picture of a pin-up style geisha on her arm.

"Go ahead. The artist would appreciate it." She responded as I raised my camera and started doing multiple shots of her arm and back— zooming in, zooming out, changing the focus and trying to get just the right amount of exposure.

I felt a hearty slap on my back and I turned to see Lelouch, my good friend and the owner of the gallery, behind me, holding two glasses of what I guessed was champagne. "Good to see that you're alive Suzaku. I haven't heard a word from you since last year's exhibit."

"I was just busy. You know, taking all the crap that my boss would throw at me." I responded, shrugging my shoulders for emphasis. "On another note, do you mind introducing me to the tattoo artist?" I added. "I need to take photos for a spread that the magazine is doing for this month's New Artists section. It's not everyday that we see tattoos exhibited in a reputable gallery."

I felt a light _tap tap tap _on the back of my neck, causing me to spin around towards the direction of the feather-light touch. I saw her then, wearing a pale pink baby doll dress, a pair of black pantyhose that bore holes from too much use and patent leather Mary Janes. She had her red hair in a high pony tail, held in place with a ribbon. She was beautiful, her body itself littered with tattoos and I vaguely wondered what little else she was hiding beneath the tiny dress that she was wearing.

"Kallen Koizuki. Tokyo-based tattoo artist." She said as she extended her hand to meet mine. Her hands were small and delicate, though slightly calloused to the touch.

I took photos of her under the colorful lights of the gallery, showcasing the talented artist in stillness and doing myself the luxury of drinking in her image through the wide lenses of my camera. She told me that she used to be a fine arts student, though she dropped out when she was recruited to work for an upscale tattoo parlor.

We met again that same night, while I was passing through the corridor where my hotel room was located at. I kissed her in the doorway to my room and I let myself fall, fast and hard, for this girl that I barely even knew.

I took delight in her body, in the gentle curve of her neck, the deep small of her back and glazed over cerulean blue eyes. Her skin was definitely her best feature though, for the surface of it in itself was a work of art, like the vandalized walls that I usually see out in the busy streets of Japan. She had Hello Kitties, Kuromis, cupcakes and Care Bears flying across her stomach while bat's wings were inked across the blades of her back. Sailor Moon rested on the plane of her upper arm and cherry blossoms bloomed around her breasts, highlighting the pale pink color of her nipples.

She loved sex and she loved it best when I went down on her—sucking, licking and nibbling on her pierced clitoris that had a little ring dangling from it. She loved all the physical practicalities of sex, from the foreplay down to the climax though she never really did like cuddling and being held in my arms after the deed was done, a total opposite from my wife's preferences. I didn't care though. The way she looked was enough for me and her feisty attitude further brought me in.

Our affair continued when we went back to Japan. On days when I was free from work, I told my wife that I was busy with shoots and working late at night when in truth, I willingly took long train rides to Tokyo where Kallen would be waiting for me in the subway platforms. We would always visit museums, get a room in different love hotels and retire in Kallen's apartment afterwards.

Days seemed more colorful because Kallen was there. Gone were the days when I thought that life was plainly monotonous and I started to take notice of the things that I usually ignored before: I learned how to distinguish different breeds of cats, because Kallen loved cats; I became a fan of anime, because Kallen loved anime, and I watched _Dragonball Z _and _Code Geass _over and over again; I began to collect _Sex Pistols _records, because Kallen loved punk music, and I loved her, and I loved to love what she loved. It was love, I told myself, without an inkling of doubt in my mind and I believed that she loved me back as well.

Sometimes, I wondered whether Kallen was sleeping around. I would see marks on her neck that my mouth clearly did not make but I did not dare reproach her for it, for fear of putting whatever it was that we had on the line.

"How do you think I feel?" she asked. We were walking back to her apartment from the sushi bar around the corner. "Knowing that you go back to your wife every night?"

At the back of my mind, I have always wondered whether Euphie knew about the affair. I have always guessed that she knew, though she never really did say a word about it for the sake of our two year old daughter. I began to gather the guts to tell her that I was about to leave her for another woman. What really hurt me the most though was looking at my daughter, tucking her in bed every night and knowing that if I do so, I never would be able to read her another fairy tale and be her knight from the monsters that plague the underside of her bed. My only consolation was the thought of Kallen's smile as I tell her that I was ready to leave everything behind to be with her.

It was New Year's eve and colorful lights outside Kallen's flat danced in the night, flickering on and off to the sound of New Year jingles playing all over town. We were in the middle of making love, with Kallen guiding my right hand towards her core, letting it rub against her essence. She was panting hard against my chest and whispering my name like a prayer. In the midst of the throes of passion, I decided to tell her that I was leaving my wife for her, and her eyes snapped open.

"We're over, Suzaku." she said without a hint of warning.

I expected a smile from her, but instead those three words that I have received brought my world crashing down instead. It made me realize how Kallen was the type of girl who always surprises me, so unpredictable and so very hard to read. She gathered her clothes, opened the door to her bedroom and banged it shut, leaving me on the couch, naked and alone. I finished a bottle of beer that I saw in the refrigerator, drowning myself in alcohol as I took out Kallen's photo from my wallet and touched myself as I imagined pounding myself into her. You're pathetic, I told myself, though I was not able to stop crying like a madman and throwing up all over the place.

I left her apartment the morning after, took a train ride back to Osaka and finally went home to my wife. What happened that day was merely lost to me, considering the fact that my head was still pounding from being under the influence of booze.

I never really saw Kallen in person after that, though I still managed to get a glimpse as to what was happening with her life through connecting with her on social networking sites such as _Facebook. _Honestly, I never really thought that she would accept my request to be connected with her, but she did. I tried to convince myself that I didn't love her, that I didn't need her, though try as I might, there were still moments when she would be able to invade my thoughts and it would hurt, as if my thoughts were translated into a physical sensation in my chest.

Many years have come and gone. My daughter has grown to a healthy ten year old though my relationship with my wife gradually went down the drain. Euphie and I parted on amiable terms and I left the house to her while I looked for an apartment that I can call my own.

And then it was yesterday night that I saw Kallen again for the first time in many years. I was attending a party in Tokyo for the celebration of the successful launch of a new magazine that caters to the fancy of artists and photographers alike. I was alone in a corner, drinking red wine, when Kallen saw and approached me.

"What are you doing alone here?" She asked me as she held my hand in her tiny ones.

I looked up. "Hello Kallen."

"You haven't changed. You're still a man of few words." she told me as she thumbed the back of my hand with her fingers.

"Neither have you." I told her, thinking to myself that she was still that feisty girl who can get any man that she wanted, albeit slightly more mature and more alluring than she was back in the day.

"You are doing very well," she said. "I see that you have branched into fashion photography. I have seen lots of editorials that you shot displayed all over magazines.

"A product of hard work I guess, and you know, the occasional sucking up to the higher ups in the industry. What are you doing these days?"

She told me that she was still out inking other people's skin though she has started to accept jobs as a comic book artist. We talked more and more towards the wee hours of the morning, getting to know each other all over again, like teenagers whose budding hormones were set on overdrive.

Before I knew it, we were already walking back to my hotel room and clothes started falling off until we were naked under the dim light of the September moon. Her body was still an artwork on its own, never failing to amaze me and I remember kissing every cherry blossom that was inked across her chest until she giggled like a little girl.

"Was there someone else?" I asked her, as casually as I could, the question that has always eluded me since then. "Someone you left me for?"

She shook her head. "I was guilty. You know, for taking you away from your wife. I didn't want to be a homewrecker."

"It was my choice." I told her with eyes trying to rid her of the guilt that she was feeling.

"And it was my fault for tearing you away from your family. For starting a relationship with a man that I knew was already married." she sighed and added, "But now, I just…don't care anymore. I loved you and I still do."

"I love you too." I said, declaring my love for her. And for the first time ever since I have met this girl, she cuddled and snuggled up to my chest (an act that she never did after sex) as I kissed the tiny stars that twinkled on the temple of her head.

And then we slept.

I awoke just a few moments ago, settling my eyes on the bare walls of the hotel. There is no Kallen beside me, just a lonely pink flower lying on the pillow beside mine and that faint feminine scent of strawberries lingering in my nostrils. It has always eluded me how the people that I love usually slip from my grasp, and I can feel my lips curve down into a frown with the thought of it. I am picking up the flower, thumbing the stem in between my fingers and I only notice now that there, on the back of my hand, were the words "Just went out to buy sushi for breakfast. I'll be back." in colorful and big bold lettering, as if my skin was like a wall of graffiti in itself.

Right now, I can feel my lips involuntarily curve up into a smile. _She'll be back._

_End  
_

A/N: I know that I'm not that much of a writer but I would really appreciate it if you review and tell me your thoughts about it. Oh, and I don't exactly support adultery and cheating. Just had to clear that up haha.


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